


Attach A Beach To The Top Of My Hourglass

by snowysydney



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, BARBIES, Friends to Lovers, Graduation, Grinding, M/M, New Year's Eve, Smut, University, i dont know how to do this, i guess man idk, oh yes also overuse of parentheses, ok leggo, people are pinning, people are stupid, sort of, what even are these tags this is ridiculous, ye louis plays with barbies, yes ok i think thats it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 21:17:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2556038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowysydney/pseuds/snowysydney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’ve been spending an awful lot of time in bed because of Harry Styles. And I don’t mean that in a good way.”</p>
<p>It’s day 19 of Louis’ pining routine (eat, sleep, work, watch sappy movies, repeat) when Zayn stages an intervention.  </p>
<p>“I’m ok, Zayn, I promise,” Louis says while shoving a whole pack of Skittles in his mouth. </p>
<p>“No, you’re not. The last time I’ve seen you like this was when you didn’t get the starring role in the school’s production of Dirty Dancing.”</p>
<p>“I still say I would’ve made a gorgeous Patrick Swayze,” Louis mumbles.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>or the one where Louis and Harry end up (totally by coincidence) at the same university.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attach A Beach To The Top Of My Hourglass

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO ok so this is my first long fic ever and I don't know if it sucks but I'm kinda proud that I actually finished it so yay
> 
> ALSO there are a LOT of parentheses in there idk why I just started and I couldn't stop so if this is annoying to you then do not read this lmao
> 
> OH YEAh and english is not my first language (Quebec represent) so I apologize in advance for any mistake I could've missed
> 
> enjoy :)
> 
> title from Egghead; or you can't survive on ideas alone by Bo Burnham (a book I strongly recommend by the way it's absolutely brilliant)

“WHERE’S MY HAIR GEL,” Louis yells from the kitchen.

  
“Hurry up Lou we’re gonna be late for graduation for fuck’s sake,” Zayn replies.

  
“Your mom’s gonna be late for graduation...” Louis mumbles.

  
“Really? You really just went there? That’s low dude, even for you.”

  
And like, it’s always been like this for Louis and Zayn. To quote Cher Lloyd, you could say they were best friend best friend ‘till the very end. Well, at least that’s what Louis hopes for because, by summer’s end, he’s going to be on his way to Boston. Yep, he’s gonna be a Harvard man. He’s going to grow up to be a wrinkly old man drinking brandy, smoking cigars in silk robes, talking about “the good ‘ole Harvard days” (that’s what Zayn’s saying though, Louis hates brandy) (and old men in silk robes, but like who doesn’t). With Zayn heading to NYU, Louis’ afraid he’s going to end up alone. He went to visit it. The Campus. It wasn’t half bad (ok, it was beautiful, but Louis is still too young to say he enjoys looking at architecture).

  
In his family, it’s always been Harvard. Harvard shirts, Harvard mugs, Harvard pots and pans (yes, pots and pans). The Tomlinsons have a long history with the university. So, basically, Louis’ expected to go there. It does sound good, like, the whole package. Pre med, the most prestigious school in North America, living on the East Coast... He just doesn’t think it’s for him. Sure, having been accepted to NYU himself, he could go live with Zayn and have a much more entertaining freshman experience, but no. He has to go to Harvard, or else he would be a “disgrace to the family”. Maybe if he just talked to his mo-

  
“SERIOUSLY LOUIS ARE YOU DOING IT ON PURPOSE JUST HURRY THE FUCK UP OR I’M TELLING YOUR MOM ABOUT TEQUILA NIGHT.”

  
“Oh my god I’m coming I’m coming,” Louis replies because, yeah, his mom doesn’t need to know about that one.

 

* * *

 

Louis is feeling weirdly emotional about all this. Leaving. He grew up here. Here is all he knows. He looks around and finds himself staring at him. It’s been 6 years and he still cannot fathom how beautiful he is. Harry Styles, that is. He just has the most amazing hair Louis has ever seen in his life (he always has some weird bandana in it though, Louis loves it), his eyes are greener than, like, a frog (he’s just really not the poetic type) and the prettiest smile. Harry’s name is called, so he gets up and makes his way to the stage. “NYU, English major”, announces Harry. Great. Now both Harry and Zayn are going there. Stupid NYU, taking the only two men he’s ever loved away from him (he’s not really sure about the whole “love” part for Harry, but he really does love Zayn) (no homo) (actually yes homo, Louis came out to his friends and family when he was 16, he’s just never thought of Zayn that way).

  
What’s important to know here is that Louis’ never actually talked to Harry. Yes, they’ve exchanged the occasional “hi” and “did we have an English homework this weekend”, but nothing more. That’s one (of the many) things he regrets from high school.

 

* * *

 

67 years later (or an hour, you know, there’s no difference), all the graduates are outside on the football field, signing each other’s yearbooks. Signatures like:

I’ll miss you buddy, have fun saving lives!

Keep in touch! (he actually has 34 signatures like that, he’s counted them.)

Love ya bro! You’ve been the best friend anyone could ask for! (from his french teacher) (no it’s from Zayn)

You have a really nice butt, good job. (he actually doesn’t remember anyone writing that, Louis is kinda scared, but flattered)

 

And many, many more. Louis’ about to leave when someone taps his shoulder. It’s Harry Styles (????????).

  
“Hi, you’re like the only person who hasn’t signed my yearbook, would you mind?” he says, smiling.

  
“Hey no not at all, d’you wanna maybe sign mine?”

  
And that’s just how it happens. Harry Styles is less than three feet away from him, all concentrated and pretty while biting his bottom lip. Louis goes with the usual you’re a great guy, I hope you have a wonderful life! Keep in touch xx when he notices that Harry is writing him a novel. “What are you doing?” Louis asks.

 

“I’m painting rocks what does it look like I’m doing,” Harry jokes.

  
“Funny, no I meant why are you writing me the sequel to Harry Potter in there.”

  
“You’ll see.”

  
So Louis just waits. It takes five minutes for him to finish the whole thing. Meanwhile, Zayn has spotted them and he’s making hand gestures that Louis doesn’t really understand. It either means why is Harry writing in your yearbook or did you forget the time I had a bowl haircut (which, now that Louis thinks about it, doesn’t make much sense, how could he possibly forget that). Harry finishes his note while Louis’ in the middle of miming I don’t have time for your charades to Zayn (which is harder than it looks).

  
“All done, wait until you get home to read it,” Harry says, walking away.

 

* * *

 

Dear Louis,

  
Isn’t it weird? Having all these people you’ve never talked to write things in a book that’s supposed to symbolize your whole high school experience. Which, ironically must be exactly what you’re thinking right now. Why on earth is Harry Styles, the weirdo who spends his Saturday night cutting the sleeves of his own shirts to make bandanas (and before you ask, yes this has happened to me in the past), writing me this long ass note? Well, Louis, I’m doing this because there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for so long and I just have to get this off my chest. I like you, Louis. I like you like you( oh god, am I in fifth grade). I like your fringe, I love the way it flows in the wind. I love the way your eyes crinkle when you’re laughing or smiling really hard. I love your ass (there’s really no cute way to put it I’m sorry). I admire your confidence and your perseverance. I find it quite interesting that you can be really manly while playing soccer and change to delicate baby kitten while wearing a sweater in 0.04 seconds (I’m sorry if this comment affects your manliness, it sounded like a compliment in my head). So yeah, all this babbling to say that I like you and that I’m so sorry I didn’t have the guts to tell you this before. I guess the only reason I’m telling you now is because I’m never going to see you again. Which is a really sad and unfortunate thing because, you see Louis, I think that we could’ve been great together.  
Sorry for being a coward,

  
Harry Styles

 

* * *

 

Louis’ in complete and utter shock. He’s been staring at the note for a good two weeks now. He’s gone through a lot of emotions in the past days. Shock, panic (Zayn actually had to slap him at one point), anger, shock, sadness, denial, shock, and now he’s in a weird place where he’s making plans. You see, in the two weeks he’s spent in his room petting his cat Bri, he’s had time to think. Look out world, Louis Tomlinson has made a radical decision. He told his mom three days ago. She wasn’t really happy about it, but she agreed to let him go because “it’s your life Louis do whatever the fuck you want” which is as close as an agreement he was ever gonna get. He is going to NYU (shut up, this has nothing to do with Harry’s note, Zayn, can’t you just be happy we’re going to the same school you tit).

 

* * *

 

“Zayn there’s something moving in there.”

  
Louis and Zayn just arrived in their dorm room (kinda small, if you ask Zayn, but Louis’ used to it, having lived with four sisters his whole life) and there’s definitely something moving in his bathroom labelled box. The thing seems to want to get out of there. Zayn approaches the box carefully.

  
“Oh come on Zayn it’s probably like a squirrel or some shit,” Louis says.

  
“Yes and having a squirrel in our room would just be the perfect thing on our first day, wouldn’t it Lou? We would be considered the, like, squirrel guys for the rest of our time here-”

  
At the same time he finishes his sentence, the thing jumps on Zayn’s face.

  
“OH MY GOD LOUIS GET IT OFF GET IT OFF I’M GONNA DIE ASSAULTED BY A SQUIRREL OH MY GOD LOUIS I’M T-”

  
“Holy fuck Zayn it’s not a squirrel it my... cat? Bri what on earth are you doing here?” Louis cuts him off.

  
“You brought your fucking cat in our dorm room?” Zayn asks.

  
“I didn’t know she was there?”

“So, basically, you kidnapped your family’s cat,” Zayn remarks.

  
By now, Louis is too far gone to care. He’s petting his cat, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear (can you even do that with a cat, or is it considered creepy?) like I missed you too honeybee and how did you get here sweetcheeks (he asks Zayn later – definitely considered creepy).

 

* * *

 

The first time he sees him, Louis is sitting in the library researching some shit for his first bio essay. Harry’s sitting at the table in the far left of the room, looking really concentrated on whatever he’s doing. Louis wasn’t prepared. Louis. Was. Not. Fucking. Prepared. He’s still all dimply and pretty and fluffy and stuff. What’s the procedure for situations like this? Is Louis supposed to get up and say hi to him, slap his ass, pat his head, ask him about Jesus? He has no fucking idea. Fortunately (or unfortunately, Louis is still not sure about that one), none of these happen because Harry spots him. For a brief moment, he looks like he just saw the ghost of a dead relative (Louis’ so flattered). The curly haired boy gets up and makes his way to Louis’ table. Shit, fuck, fucker. The conversation goes like this:

  
“L-louis? H-hi I, um, well, I just wasn’t ex-expecting you to, um, be here. Like in NYU?” Harry babbles and oh god if that isn’t the cutest thing he’s ever seen he doesn’t know what is.

  
“Y-yeah well I just, well I guess I changed my mind,” Louis says, but then adds (maybe a bit too) rapidly “because of Zayn like, not be-because of um, you know, like-”  
“Oh ok, good. Good...” Harry cuts him off.

  
“Right! Right. Ok so well I have to go, um, milk the cows,” Louis says.

  
“The cows?”

  
“Yes we h-have cows. In our dorm room? Anyways bye Harry see you around,” Louis murmurs/yells (still confused about that too) while running out the door of the Victorian Hall Library.

  
What.

 

* * *

 

“Cows,” Zayn repeats for the 828th time since Louis got back to their room.

  
“For god’s sake Zayn, yes I did tell him I needed to milk our dorm room cows, no I don’t know what I was thinking and yes, maybe I do need to see a psychiatrist.”

  
So, yeah. Maybe that wasn’t Louis’ proudest moment. Harry took him by surprise, ok? Sure, he knew that he’d have to cross paths with him eventually, but not today. Louis had it all planned out. First of all, he was going to look nice, not wearing his What did Batman tell Robin before he got into the Batmobile?  
Get into the Batmobile, Robin! shirt Zayn got for him as a joke last Christmas. He was also going to be practical, cute, adorable and he wasn’t, was not, going to talk about cows but, somehow, Louis managed to do the exact opposite. Meanwhile, Zayn’s still laughing his ass off.

  
“I can’t believe you talked to him about HAHAHAH milking your HAHAHAHAHA cows,” Zayn says, wiping tears of laughter on his cheeks.

  
“Best friend my ass,” Louis mumbles as he face palms himself with his Introduction to Medicine book.

 

* * *

 

“YOUUUUU YOU’RE TSHHE ONE I WSHAAAAAAANT BABY SHYOU’RE TSHHE ONE I NEEED-”

  
“Am I really?” Harry cuts Louis off while he’s singing and brushing his teeth in the community bathroom which is, um, embarrassing.

  
“Oh, hi, didn’t shee you there. I, um, I thshought I wshas alone,” Louis tries to say, his toothbrush still in his mouth.

  
“Yeah, I can see that,” Harry replies, chuckling to himself and, honestly, fuck him. Fuck him because it’s one o’clock in the morning and he looks ravishing. Fuck him because, while every other freshman on this fucking campus looks dead because of the work overload, he looks like the love child of baby Jesus and David Beckham (which, now that Louis thinks about it, is kinda disgusting, but meant in a good way?) Louis wishes he could form coherent thoughts while Harry is around him.

  
“Haha, tshat’s very fshunny”, Louis says sarcastically. He spits in the sink. “So, Harry, how has NYU treated you so far? Dropping out yet?”

  
Harry giggles (Louis’ tummy doesn’t, does not, flutter at that sound. It just doesn’t) and says “It’s been great, actually, my roommate is great, I love most of my teachers and, well, I found out that you go here, um, well, too. And that m-made me, um, happy.”

  
Louis doesn’t know what to say. He’s spent six years of his life admiring Harry from afar, but when Harry flirts (is shyly pointing out the obvious considered flirting?) with him, he’s stuck. Flabbergasted. Blank. Nada. Louis can’t think of anything intelligent to say so, of course, Louis says “Right good, yes so, um, I guess I’ll be seeing you then, Bye Harri-ro-reh,” ensues a cough attack that lasts longer the Hundred Years War.

  
Great.

 

* * *

 

Louis gives up.

He’s seen Harry three times since the weird toothbrush incident (as Zayn likes to call it), and every time he’s made a bigger fool of himself. On Monday, he dropped his entire cuppa on Harry’s white shirt, which only resulted in him being wet and Louis being hot and bothered for at least two days. On Tuesday, when Harry said hi to him in the hallway, instead of waving like any normal human being, he gave Harry the world’s lamest thumbs up ever.

  
Wednesday was, most probably, the worst one. Harry (being his usual adorable self) was smiling while swiping cards at the cafeteria and Louis (being his usual hungry self) was waiting in line to get in the said cafeteria. While Louis was waiting, he watched Harry. He watched the way you could see his swallow tattoos on his collarbones. He watched his dimples. Oh god. Those stupid, childish dimples. Louis wants to makes an honest woman out of them. He watched Harry’s lips, hair, cheeks, eyes, torso. When came Louis’ turn, Harry blushed (which - breaking news - is the cutest thing ever.)

  
“Hi Lou, how are you?” Harry said slowly, carefully avoiding Louis’ eyes.

  
“Hey!” Louis replied (with wayyyy too much enthusiasm). “Funny seeing you here, hahaha, hey can I tell you a joke?”

  
“Um, sure, well, I-I guess so?” Harry said, frowning (Louis wanted to kiss that frown off his face).

  
“Ok hahaha,” Louis has no idea why he was laughing so much “so why couldn’t Santa get out of bed?”

  
“I don’t know?” Harry replies, sounding confused.

  
“BECAUSE THE BIPOLAR BEARS WERE REALLY BRINGING HIM DOWN HAHAHA GET IT HAHAHA GOD I’M HILARIOUS HAHA BYE HARRY.”

  
So now Harry probably thinks Louis is the biggest douche ever who laughs obnoxiously loud at his own jokes. Well isn’t that just awesome. So, on Thursday, the only thing Louis does is stay in his dorm room all day to avoid Harry.

  
“Maybe you should go out Lou,” Zayn tells him right before he’s off to his date with some bloke he met in a party yesterday (Llama or Liam, Louis has forgotten his name because his mind is already filled up with embarrassing moments and images of Harry with a wet sticky t-shirt.)

  
“Oh yeah Z, what a great idea. Hey! While I’m at it, maybe I could punch myself in the face, watch my mom have sex, relive my first public erection?”

  
“Oh my god you’re such a drama queen.”

  
“Says the guy who cried for 12000 years when his mom wouldn’t let him go to a Selena Gomez concert when he was 16,” Louis says.

  
“You’re a dick,” Zayn replies as he opens the door.

  
“I love you too Zayney have a great date I hope you get laid!” Louis shouts while Zayn shuts the door.

  
Ah. Alone again. Louis has no idea what to do. Watch a movie? Sing along to Britney Spears? Do his homework?  
(The thing is, he knows he’s going to wank to Harry Styles, but he’s classy, you know, so he pretends to have at least considered other options.)

 

* * *

 

“LOUIS I HAVE WONDERFUL NEWS GET THE FUCK UP,” Zayn shouts as he jumps on Louis’ bed.

  
“I hope you discovered you have a fatal disease,” Louis mumbles, head buried in his Edward Cullen pillow.

  
“How lovely,” Zayn says,” Alas, no. We do have an invitation to a kickass Halloween party in our dorm-”

  
“Did you just really say kickass Zayn I swear to god 2008 called they want their stupid expression back,” Louis cuts him off.

  
“So you’re going to get up, go to CVS, buy a fucking Halloween costume and come with me,” Zayn continues, totally ignoring Louis’ “kicks” (kick is a really strong word, Zayn would describe them more as “little pushes made with tiny baby feet”.)

 

* * *

 

“There’s absolutely nothing left.”

  
“What are you talking about Louis there are so many options. See?” Zayn points at the three sad costumes left on the rack.

  
Louis rolls his eyes. He’s completely fucked. He has the choice between a too short Cinderella dress (granted, that would make his ass look awesome but come on, he’s got pride)(not really, it’s just that Zayn said no), a Zorro costume and a sombrero. Louis’ life is like trying to keep up with the Kardashians. There’s just no point.

 

* * *

 

Four hours later Louis arrives to the party wearing the sombrero and a poncho. Zayn even got him to draw himself a little mustache with his glittery brown eyeliner (don’t ask why he’s in possession of such thing.) While Louis’ making a mental list of all the things he’d rather be doing right now (the list consists right now of boning the old lady working at the library and doing a thesis on moths), someone taps his shoulder. He turns around and. Of course.

  
“Louis?” Harry says, “I didn’t know you were, um, gonna be here.”

  
“Harry hi hey hello top of the morning,” smooth. “Haha, um, what are you doing here?”

  
“My roommate organized the party. This is my room,” Harry says, pointing to the room at the end of the hallway.

  
“Oh ok haha that’s awesome Harry,” Louis says, smiling (he’s also currently killing Zayn in his head so his smile must look a tad psychotic), “Well um how have you been?”

  
“I’ve been great! Hey, do you want something to drink?”

  
Louis says yes so Harry makes his way to the bar (a table with various sorts of cheap alcohol on it) so Louis observes him. Harry’s wearing tight black jeans and a black Ramones t-shirt (because you can’t win all the time) and he looks fucking hot. Standing there, pouring himself a cup of beer, Louis could just wreck him. He wants to go over there, pull him by the hem of his shirt and have his way with him (do people even say that anymore.) Harry comes back with their drinks.

  
“I heard you’re majoring in Med? That’s impressive!” Harry says, grinning.

  
The conversation goes on for a while, talking about their major, families, friends, the boring stuff. Louis tries really hard to focus, he does, but his mind (eyes) always wanders to Harry’s dimples, lips, torso, hair. Oh god. Abort. Louis’ drinking from his cup when someone elbows him in the chest, causing him to pour all the content of said cup on his shirt.  
“FUCK MY PONCHO,” he yells (can you say overdramatic.)

  
“Come with me I have tons of shirts in my room,” which, coming from anyone else, would sound like a cheesy pickup line, but Louis’ sure that Harry isn’t even thinking about that.

  
So this is how he ends up in Harry Styles’ room. Louis notices how messy it is. Books, clothes, Christmas canes (what even) everywhere. Louis loves it. Harry looks back at him and, for a moment, something happens. Louis can’t even hear the music playing in the background. Fuck, he can’t even hear himself think. The only thing in his head right now is harryharryharryharryharryharryharry and oh god Louis wants to kiss him. And maybe fuck a little, maybe. But he can’t. He knows better than to have sex on Halloween, he’s seen Friday the 13th (stay safe children). Or that’s what he’s telling himself to keep from jumping on Harry which, by the way, is still looking at him. Harry looks away, smiling, opens a drawer and pulls out a white t-shirt.

  
“This ok?” he asks.

  
“Yeah thank you for doing this,” Louis says, taking off his stupid poncho.

  
“Oh, it’s no problem, really,” Harry says, smiling.

  
Yes, Louis realizes he’s shirtless in Harry’s room and no sex is happening. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. Right now he’s hesitating between closing the space between them and kissing the shit out of him or running away without any shirt on. You can guess easily which one he does (hint: it does not involve kissing.)

 

* * *

 

“No, mom, I’m not involved in any kind of drug dealing.”

  
Louis’ having his usual Friday conversation with his mom while petting his cat. He just told her he can’t make it home for Thanksgiving and she’s 100000% sure that he’s joined a gang (Of course, mom, that’s the only explanation to why I can’t come home this weekend). Louis just has so many essays to write and he’s not really feeling like partying all weekend. He’s been kinda down since the Halloween party and he just wants to write, watch sappy movies and eat nachos. Lots of nachos. He knows he’ll probably be the only one left on campus, but he’s fine with it. He really needs some alone time (Shut up, Zayn, I didn’t mean it like that).

  
“Are you sure Louis? You can always talk to me you know that right?” his mom says.

  
“Yes, mom, I’m fine. I really have to go though, say hi to the girls for me, I love you!”

  
Louis ends the call. So. Zayn left earlier. He really should get to work (he didn’t lie about that, he has a pile of work bigger than your mom) (Louis is hilarious). He opens Word on his computer and types in his name.

  
“I deserve a break,” he says to no one. He closes his laptop and heads out.

 

* * *

 

Louis’ been wandering in circle around the campus when he hears someone call out his name. “Louis?”  
Oh for fuck’s sake.

  
“Harry! Hi!” Louis says, mouth full of chocolate chip cookies (what, he was hungry) “Aren’t you supposed to be home for Thanksgiving?”  
“Aren’t you?” Harry says, smiling.

  
As Harry says that, it begins to rain so hard Louis can barely see two feet in front of him.  
“OH MY GOD HAHAHAHA LET’S GO BACK TO MY ROOM,” Harry yells.

  
Louis thanks whoever invented rain.

 

* * *

 

That’s how Louis ends up once again soaked to the skin in Harry’s room. Fate is a funny thing. Once they’ve changed into something that wasn’t wet (like your mom was last night) (Louis really needs to stop with these jokes), Harry asks him if he wants to play a game. Fucking finally.

  
“Of course,” Louis says, winking cheekily. Harry looks at him weird.

  
Turns out that, when Harry Styles says he wants to play a game, he really means play a board game. They’ve been playing Boggle for about half an hour when Harry says “Hey Lou? I’m sorry.”

  
“Sorry about what?” Louis may or may not have difficulty breathing right now (nicknames are his weakness).

  
“For being such a twat. I’m always weird when you’re around me. I can’t walk, talk, breathe properly and like you’re always so perfect and calm an-”

  
“What. On. Earth. Are. You. Talking. About.” Louis cuts him off. He can’t believe this. “You think you’re the twat? I laugh at my own jokes, I spill hot beverages on you, I run away every time I see you because I want to kiss you so much it’s no-”

  
“Wait, you want to kiss me?”

  
Oh shit. Fuck. Fucker. He could lie. He could blame the bottle of red wine they’ve been sipping ever since they got to Harry’s room. He chooses not to.  
“More than I want Hilary Duff to make another Lizzie McGuire movie.”

  
Yeah. Maybe that wasn’t the smoothest way to tell him, but it seems to work because Harry grins, leans over and kisses him.  
It’s better than pancakes, better than waffles. Better than a cold winter day when you’ve got nothing to do but sleep. Better than discovering a new song and listening to it 500 times in a row. Better than finding 20 bucks in your pocket. Better than the Lizzie McGuire movie. Better than pumpkin spice lattes at Starbucks. Better than getting a good grade on a project you worked really hard on. Better than the kiss at the end of a romantic comedy. Better than the sentence and the Oscar goes to. Better than Christmas morning. Better than the first day of summer. Better than with any other person he’s kissed before.

  
Better than better.

  
It starts off slowly, their mouths barely pressed against one another. That is until Louis can’t take it anymore (he’s waited long enough, he doesn’t care if he looks desperate)(he secretly hopes Harry finds it hot). Louis presses his mouth with more strength against Harry’s.

  
“Mph, Lou, god wait wait wait,” Harry says between kisses.

  
“Harry, what it is? Oh god, did I do something wrong? Did I pressure you holy fu-”

  
“Louis, calm down you didn’t do anything. I was gonna ask you if you’re sure about this,” he cuts him off.

  
The genuine concern in Harry’s eyes and voice makes Louis want to bake him a cake and feed him while they’re cuddling under a blanket, but Louis has other things in mind right now (like completely wreck Harry). Louis answers Harry’s question by pushing him on the carpet and straddling his hips, attacking his collarbones.  
“Oh god, I’ll take that as a yes,” Harry says, biting his lip (which, by the way, holy fuck).

  
It goes on like that for approximately five minutes before Harry makes a sound, just the most delightful sound ever and Louis wants to hear that sound every minute of every single day he’s got left on this planet. Harry pulls the hem of Louis’ shirt, so he takes it off in one swift movement. He does the same with Harry’s and, oh, would you look at that. “Tattoos,” Louis says, mostly to himself.

  
“Haha, um, yeah, I’ve got quite a few. My sister says they’re stupid. Oh, god, I shouldn’t bring my sister in to this sh-”

  
“I love them,” Louis says, tracing the ship on Harry’s (very very firm) bicep.

  
Harry just grins at that and opens his mouth as if he wanted to say something but Louis swallows whatever it was. He absentmindedly starts to grind on Harry’s hips, making the taller lad moan again. He can feel the outline of Harry’s dick on his thigh so he rotates his hips, applying more pressure to it (Louis’ so hard he could cry). The lazy grinding turns fast and desperate on both parts. Harry sinks his teeth into the shorter lad’s neck, making him whimper.

  
“Jesus fuck, Harry I need mo-” Louis starts to say when the door opens suddenly.

  
“HARRY I’M HOME MY PARENTS WENT ON A CRUISE WITHOUT TELLING ME OH I’m sorry I didn’t know you had, um, company?” Liam says.

  
They’re both currently shirtless, sweaty, hard and panting. This might look slightly sexual. Louis hops off of Harry as fast as he can and he gets up (while skillfully covering his crotch with his previously discarded shirt).

  
“Yes, well, I should, um, be on my way! Thank you again Harry for, um, that delicious crème brûlée,” Louis says (why? he has no idea).

  
“Yes, um, my pleasure,” Harry says, smirking.

  
Louis makes his way to the door. Before leaving, he takes one last look at Harry. He’s never looked so good. His lips are red and his cheeks are flushed from all the kissing, he’s got at least 10,000 (ok maybe four) love bites on his torso and he’s smiling cheekily at him.

  
Louis winks and closes the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

Louis’ smiling. It’s been three days, and Louis is still smiling.

  
“Bri, my dear Bri, how did I go 19 years of my life without kissing Harry Styles.”

  
Of course, Bri doesn’t answer, she’s a cat (although Louis always secretly hopes she’ll answer him). Louis’ serenity is disturbed when he hears the door open violently.

  
“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, LIAM. DON’T TELL ME IT’S NOTHING I SAW THE WAY HE LOOKS AT YOU,” Zayn yells (his voice is probably higher than he means it to be, but Louis gets the vibe that it’s not the best moment to tell him that).

  
“Niall is NOT in love with me are you even serious right now? You’re such a drama queen,” Liam says, rolling his eyes.

 

“Shut up.”

  
“Make me.”

  
The most sexual kiss Louis has even witnessed in his entire life ensues. He feels like he should not be watching this (except for how he totally does).

  
“Wow, I give you guys, like, a ten,” Louis says, clapping.

  
“Oh my god Louis you fucking perv were you watching us?” Zayn replies, stepping away from Liam.

  
“Well, excuuuuuse me you just barged in it’s not like I had the time to escape your temple of sexual frustration.”

  
“Speaking of which, how is Harry?”

  
“Shut up, you tit, and please don’t say make me,” Louis says as he opens the door. He has no idea where he’s gonna go. Right before he closes it, Louis hears Liam yell “HE’S HOME BY THE WAY.”

  
Louis knows exactly where he’s going.

 

* * *

 

It takes Louis 2 minutes to get there. He knocks on the door, replacing his fringe at the same time (whoever said men can’t multitask?). Harry opens the door.

  
“H-hi! Louis, um. I, didn’t expect you here?” Harry stutters, closing the door behind him.

  
Louis wasn’t expecting this reaction. “Um, yeah, sorry, is this a bad time?”

  
“Harry, mate, are ya coming back?” an unknown – male – voice says from Harry’s room.

  
Oh.

  
“I-I get it I’m sorry I, um, didn’t mean to interrupt the fun,” Louis says already stepping back.

  
“No Louis, it’s not what you think he’s ju-”

  
“You don’t need to explain anything Harry you’re not my boyfriend,” Louis spits out.

  
Louis’ running down Harry’s hallway. Why is he crying. This is so stupid. He’s been daydreaming about Harry for the last three days and of fucking course Harry’s been having the sex Louis didn’t get to have with a mystery boy. He doesn’t care. Louis’ fine. He’s perfectly fine (except for how he’s totally not).

 

* * *

 

“You’ve been spending an awful lot of time in bed because of Harry Styles. And I don’t mean that in a good way.”

  
It’s day 19 of Louis’ pining routine (eat, sleep, work, watch sappy movies, repeat) when Zayn stages an intervention.

  
“I’m ok, Zayn, I promise,” Louis says while shoving a whole pack of skittles in his mouth.

  
“No, you’re not. The last time I’ve seen you like this was when you didn’t get the starring role in the school’s production of Dirty Dancing.”

  
“I still say I would’ve made a gorgeous Patrick Swayze,” Louis mumbles.

  
“A, no and b, that’s not the point. That’s why I called your mom.”

  
“You did what now?” Betrayal, is the only word that comes to Louis’mind.

  
“Look, Lou, you left me no choice. So I told her that you, my friend, would be coming home early for Christmas. You’ve got a full two weeks of family time ahead of you,” Zayn says, as if his plan was the greatest thing since sliced bread.

  
“Please tell me you’re joking.”

  
Ten minutes later Louis’ being forced to pack his bags and Zayn’s kicking him out of the dorm. Louis firmly suspects that he didn’t even do it for Louis’ well being, but to get the dorm to himself so he can have lots and lots of sex with Liam.

  
So. Off to Doncaster, the town with the friendly atmosphere that makes you want to play LEGO in the middle of the highway.

 

* * *

 

“LOUIS GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED AND COME HELP ME WITH THIS TURKEY.”

  
Ah, the sweet sound of his mother in the morning.

  
“M’coming calm down,” Louis mumbles. He gets out of bed and puts on a pair of grey sweatpants.

  
He’s been at his old house (well, old, he only left four months ago) for about a week. It’s been, how could he put it...extreme? Of course, he loves his sister even more than he loves pies (which is a lot), but they’re not experts when it comes to relaxing. It’s always Louis come cut my Barbie’s hair off with me or Louis I stuck the cat’s face in the toaster (oh, yeah, he brought back Bri because Zayn was literally creeped out by their weird relationship) (Louis doesn’t understand what’s weird with whispering sweet nothings to your cat). He tries his best to keep up with them, he’s just so exhausted with school (actually, he doesn’t know why he started a list, school’s basically the only thing on his mind right now)(and Harry but he’s not thinking about him at all)(maybe a little). Louis makes his way to the kitchen, carefully avoiding his sisters’ toys.

  
“Morning sunshine,” his mom says, grinning.

  
“Why are you smiling so much what did you do, oh god, did you run over my bike like that time when I was 7?” Louis replies. He realises he doesn’t actually own a bike. He’s just making sure.

  
“No, honey, a boy called you today. I told him you were sleeping.”

  
“A BOY!?!?!?!??????????”

  
Ok. Maybe, just maybe, his reaction was extreme. There are only two genders on this planet. He shouldn’t be that surprised that one of them called him. I mean, the odds are 50/50.

  
“Yes. He said his name’s Henry? Or Harry? I don’t remember.”

  
“You, mother, are the worst messenger ever,” Louis says, already running upstairs.

 

* * *

 

Louis feels like he’s in a cliché teenage movie, picking petals off of pretty flowers, wondering if the cute boy likes him. In his case, he’s wondering if he should call him back (shut up it’s exactly the same). All week, he’s had flashes of Harry: some good (his pretty pink flushed lips against his neck), some bad (his pretty pink flushed lips against mystery boy’s neck). He knows he’s being ridiculous. Harry isn’t even his boyfriend; he has no right to be jealous. He wants to call him, hear his voice, talk to him for hours, so bad. He wants to tell Harry about being back home, about his mom, his sisters, his life before college. He wants Harry.

  
“M’calling him,” Louis says to no one.

  
“LOU-LOUUUUUU DAISY KEEPS HITTING ME WITH HER BABRIE,” he hears Phoebe screaming from down the hall.  
Later, he tells himself.

 

* * *

 

Later turns out to be way later than Louis thought. He’s currently waiting for the big ball to drop in time square on his TV. This is the saddest new year’s eve Louis has ever witnessed, let alone been part of. His phone rings.

  
“I’ll take this outside,” Louis says, thanking whoever invented marimba (he loathes the sound, he’s just thankful for the distraction)(Louis feels like it’s thanksgiving in his head). He sees Harry’s name on the screen. He accepts his Facetime invitation.

  
“Hey curly,” Louis says, grinning.

  
“Hey Lou.”

  
God, he missed his voice, his face, his everything.

  
“My mom told me you called a couple of days ago, I’m so sorry I didn’t call you back. I was trapped in a world of ponies, Barbies and glitter.”  
“Well, Louis, if I didn’t know you better I thought you’d made that up,” Harry chuckles “So, um, glitter? What was that about?” he asks.  
Louis tells Harry stories about his sisters. Partly because he wants him to know more about his life, but mainly because Harry’s laugh is the most beautiful sound on this planet. It could bring joy to sad people; give toys to kids in need. It could be baked and be turned into the most delicious cake ever; it’s the kind of laugh that poets right about. He feels like everyone should hear it, but at the same time wants it to be his secret. Louis wants to set it as his ringtone.

  
“So, Harry, what are you doing on this sad night of celebration?”

  
“This was actually my only plan for tonight. I wanted to see you.”

  
Even through his tiny iPhone screen, Harry is beautiful. Sitting outside, the stars shining bright behind him, Louis thinks that, maybe, Harry is one of them.  
“Oh god,” Louis whimpers. Oh shit. He didn’t mean to say that out loud.

  
“Um, Lou, are you ok?”

 

Fuck it.

  
“Well, yes Harry, I am. I was just thinking about how beautiful you are because, apparently, watching 27 dresses five thousand times in a row literally turned me into a twenty something woman in desperate need of some lovin’,” Louis says.

 

Harry giggles. “Well you’re not so bad yourself...”

  
They just stare at each other, blushing, like 14 years old kids playing spin the bottle.

  
“Hey Lou?” Harry asks.

  
“What?” Louis replies, smiling softly.

  
“You have no idea how much I want you” he says, voice low. Harry grins and ends the call.

 

* * *

 

“HOME SWEET HOME!” Louis yells as soon as he walks into his dorm room. He’s welcomed with barely and nod from his best mate and a mumble from Liam. They’re watching The Lion King on Zayn’s bed (Louis can’t really feel the love tonight, if he’s being honest.)

  
Louis drops his bags next to his bed. Being away for two weeks made him realize how much he likes living here, away from his old life and family responsibilities. Sure, that implies that he only eats hamburgers and hot dogs on a daily basis, but still. Louis likes living on his own.

  
“Louis, babycakes, would you be a dear and go buy milk? I drank the last of it this morning,” Zayn asks.

  
Most of the time, Louis thinks. His phone beeps. It’s a text from Harry.

  
come to my place now im baking u a pie

  
Louis snickers. About 0.06 seconds later, he gets a second one saying

  
naked

  
Louis had no idea one tiny word could turn him into an Olympic gold medalist in running really fast out of a room (if that’s even a thing).

 

* * *

 

Louis knocks on the door, welcomed by a fully dressed Harry. Louis frowns.

  
“Oh don’t look so disappointed babe I just wanted to be sure you’d come,” the taller lad says, grinning.

  
“Who says I won’t leave now,” Louis replies, throwing himself on the only chair in the room, “Well if you’re not gonna be naked can I still have my homemade cooked pie?”

  
“Oh yeah, about that. I bought it in a bakery earlier. We don’t actually have an oven in our dorm room.”

  
Louis gets up and makes a fake shock face. “Harry Styles, I am appalled by the amount of lying happening in here.”

  
Harry giggles, and it’s so contagious that Louis suddenly feels like giggling too. Two 19 years old man or two fifth grade girls talking about their crushes, you decide. They both look up and their gazes meet. Breathtaking. The boy is breathtaking, Louis thinks.

  
Louis smiles and leans in closer, his mouth hovering Harry’s. They just stand there, impossibly close. “So, Curly, feel like playing Boggle?”

  
Harry laughs. “You complete twat I will sla-” He gets cut off by Louis’ lips.

  
It’s different. Different than the other day, at Thanksgiving, when nothing was certain. Different than over the phone, definitely different than all those times Louis wanked to the image of Harry. There’s a certain promise behind the kiss (and if Louis feels weak in the knees because of it then no one has to know).

  
Right, kissing Harry.

  
They kiss with their mouths closed for a couple of minutes when Louis gets tired of it. “Jesus Harry I’m not some precious little fairy you don’t have to be delicate for fuck’s sake.” The taller boy groans and pushes Louis on the bed, straddling his hips. “Fucking finally,” he says as Harry bites his neck to shut him up. Louis grabs Harry’s hair and pulls him to his mouth. They kiss sloppily with teeth, mouths, lips and tongue everywhere. Harry starts grinding his hips down on Louis’ making him moan. The shorter boy tries to flips them over so he’s straddling Harry, but fails completely, making them fall on the ground (sometimes Louis hates being small). Harry laughs and Louis mumbles a “sorry” but eventually starts laughing too. He puts his lips to Harry’s ear. “Want to ride you, if that’s ok.”

  
No one’s laughing anymore.

  
Harry just nods and takes off Louis’ shirt, kissing his collarbones in the process. He tosses his own shirt away and looks up at Louis. “You’re so beautiful.”

  
“Oh I’m, uh, well,” Louis says (being his very eloquent self). He doesn’t know what to say so he just takes his and Harry’s jeans off.

  
“Well, Tomlinson, looks like I’ve found the way to get into your pants,” Harry says, obviously proud of his joke.

  
“Oh god you’ve just ruined the whole moment. And, by the way, you can’t sweet talk your way into my pants, Styles.” Harry chuckles and grinds his hips up to meet Louis’, kissing him right under his ear. “Are you sure about that?”

  
Louis might not live to see what happens next (which would be unfortunate because he’d very much like to see Harry Styles naked). “Oh for the love of all that is good and pure just touch me please,” Louis whimpers.

  
Harry groans. “Where do you need me Lou?”

  
“Do you want me to show you on a doll?” Louis pants. And yeah, maybe it wasn’t the best time to show is humoristic side, but Louis needs to lighten the mood or he’s gonna burst. Harry’s laugh gets cut off by Louis’ mouth.

  
Harry’s hands make their way to Louis’ boxers, pushing them off until they’re down to the shorter boy’s knees. Harry grabs a bottle of lube from under his bed and, before Louis has the time to say something about it (really, Styles? Bottle of lube under the bed?), Harry puts some on his hands and grabs a hold of Louis’ cock.

  
Oh.

  
He gives it a few strokes before moving his hands over to Louis’ ass. “Move your hips up love, m’gonna open you up,” Harry says, his voice low. Louis does as he’s told and scoots closer to Harry. So here he is, lying naked on the floor, about to get torn apart by Harry Styles (Louis’ life is very much like Natalie Imbruglia’s hit single “Torn”).

  
Harry coats his fingers with lube and starts off slowly, as if he’s trying not to hurt Louis. The thing is, Louis’ always known Harry has huge hands, ok? It’s no big secret that he’s jerked off on the thought of those long fingers pushing inside him (he’s told Zayn his fantasies multiple times, somehow he doesn’t seem to appreciate that. Louis needs better friends).

  
Feeling Harry’s fingers moving inside him is something else, though.

  
“For Christ’s sake Harry your hands are fuck-”

  
“Can you ride me now?” Harry cuts him off and then blushes. “Oh god Louis I’m so sorry that was so rude it’s just you look so fucking good right now and your hair’s all dishevelled and your mouth’s pink and you’re all flushed and I’m so-”

  
Louis cuts Harry off by pushing him on his back and taking his (very very tight pants) and boxers. “I’d like that very much,” replies Louis, grinning. Louis straddles Harry’s hips and he aligns himself with Harry’s dick. He looks around until he finds what he was looking for: a condom. He rolls it onto Harry’s dick and then puts the tip on his hole. As soon as he sinks down, Louis’ overwhelmed by how big Harry is. He feels a little discomfort at first, but no longer than five seconds later he sees stars.

 

“Holy fucking Christ Harry,” Louis moans, “fuck fuck fuck jesus fuck.”

  
“Would you stop bringing our Lord and Saviour in this Louis he died for our sins,” Harry jokes and Louis looks at his face to find out he’s grinning.

  
“Are you fucking kidding me Styles I’m about to come and you’re joki-holy shit shit shit fuck oh my god Harry” he’s cut off by Harry hitting the right angle and brushing against his prostate. “Right fucking there,” Louis pants. He sinks down faster on Harry’s cock and Harry fucks into him at the same time; it’s fucking delightful. With a few more thrusts Harry has him coming harder than he has in years, if not ever. Harry keeps fucking into him for a minute until he comes to, sweaty and breathless. Louis lifts himself off of Harry and the taller lad takes off the condom, ties it up and puts it in the bin.

  
“Fucking wow,” is the only thing Louis manages to say.

  
“You sure swear a lot when you’re about to come,” Harry says. Louis laughs and hits him in the arm (with what little force he has left because, I mean, fucking wow).

 

* * *

 

“Five times.”

  
“Yes, Zayn. Five times in one night,” replies Louis for the hundredth time.

  
“Harry watched the Lizzie McGuire movie with you five fucking times in one night?” (Louis feels that if Zayn could’ve used interrogation marks in real life he would’ve used about 30 dozens after that sentence).

  
Louis and Harry have been dating for about two months when Zayn learns about it. It’s not that Louis was hiding it from him (lies), it’s just that Zayn was so happy with Liam that Louis didn’t want to take the spotlight away from them (lies lies lies). He really just wanted Zayn to be happy because Louis truly is a wonderful friend.

  
(Of course this is complete bullshit. He didn’t want to tell Zayn because Louis knew he would call his mother and tell her about Harry, invitation to dinner and interrogation by his sisters ensues; something he’d very much like to put off for as long as possible).

  
For now though, Zayn has asked to know everything that’s happened in the past three weeks, hence the Lizzie McGuire story.

  
“I literally cannot believe that someone would sit through like eight hours of Hilary Duff singing girly pop songs.”

  
“EXCUSE YOU ZAYN MALIK ARE YOU SERIOUSLY INSULTING MY FAVOURITE MOVIE RIGHT NOW?” Louis says, well, screams (so loud that half the people in the Starbucks they’re in stare at them like they just murdered a small child).

  
“No, Louis, I’m saying I’m impressed by how much Harry loves you.” And, wow, Louis did not expect that. “Wh- no haha Zayn pffft what are yo- this is cra- pfffft,” Louis says in the most eloquent way ever.

  
“Lou, surely he must love you if he’s willing to sit through all this glitter and high pitched voices and pink for so long.”

  
“Ok now you’re just being rude to my queen.”

  
“Louis, I’m serious. Have you guys talked about this kind of stuff? Maybe you should, I’m just saying I mean me and Liam told each other we lov-”

  
“Aaaaaaaalright Doctor Phil I’m gonna leave now before you tell me that fucking story with the baby goat and the matching sweaters again,” Louis says as he gets up and walks towards the door.

  
“THOSE SWEATERS WERE ADORABLE, LOUIS TOMLINSON, ADORABLE I TELL YOU,” Zayn screams as Louis leaves the coffee shop, laughing.

 

* * *

 

“Hey babe,” Harry says as he opens the door.

Louis decided to go see him and, like, talk about, you know, like the stuff, like, love stuff (Louis isn’t the romantic type). He’s rehearsed what he’s gonna say in the mirror all afternoon: “Hey love, do you wanna talk about love?” and then he’s gonna make a heart shape with his hands (now that Louis thinks about it, it’s not the greatest idea he’s ever had). Louis clears his throat and looks Harry in the eyes. “I love you.” Shit.

  
A thousand things are going through Louis’ head right now (It’s way too early in their relationship to admit something like that you fucking idiot. He’s gonna think you’re crazy or like a sociopath or some shit. I don’t know how he’d think you’re a sociopath just because you told him you lo- HOLY SHIT YOU TOLD HIM YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HIM. How fucking stupid is that. How is he even go-)

  
Harry cuts Louis off mid-thoughts. “Have you ever seen such a beautiful night?” Harry sings.

 

“Harry what the fuck are you doi-”

  
“I could almost kiss the stars for shining so bright, when I see you smiling I go-”

  
“I swear to god stop this right no-”

  
“I WOULD NEVER WANT TO MISS THIS ‘CAUSE IN MY HEART I KNOW WHAT THIS IS,” Harry sings/screams as he looks at Louis, expecting him to continue the song.

  
The thing with Harry is, he’s crazy. He does the most random things at the most random places at the most random time. Louis thinks that falling in love with Harry is like solving a puzzle. When you’ve figured it out, everything falls into place. Louis smiles. They both start to sing at the same time.

  
“HEY NOW, HEY NOW THIS IS WHAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF HEY NOW HEY NOW.”

 

* * *

 

Five minutes later, they’re both panting on Harry’s bed.

  
“Oh, and um, I love you too. If you were wondering. I wouldn’t memorize this stupid song for anybody,” Harry whispers, smiling.

  
Louis grins. Lizzie McGuire truly is an amazing movie.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed
> 
> sba I dedicate this to you thank u for sticking w me throughout all this i love u


End file.
